Sam's Heart
by IMTheresa
Summary: An alternate ending, or missing scene, for Heart.


**Sam's Heart**

**Disclaimer:** If I owned them, I wouldn't be posting here, now would I?

**A/N: **I wrote this for a Yahoo group challenge and decided to post it here, too. When I first watched _Heart_, I couldn't even think about what might have happened next. How did Dean deal with his brother? How did Sam react? It was all too painful to think about, but with some time and after watching it again last week, I came up with this. I hope you like it.

oooOOOooo

Life without love is like a tree without blossom and fruit - Khalil Gibra

oooOOOooo

Dean was willing to give his brother the all time he needed, but he was afraid that the police wouldn't be so accommodating. He had hoped Sam would realize this on his own and come out of the bedroom, but it looked like Dean was going to have to intervene. He didn't want to, but he'd waited as long as he dared. One of these days, they were really going to have to invest in at least one silencer.

He walked to the doorway of Madison's bedroom and felt sick at the sight of Sam still silently crying over her still form. There had been no choice; Madison was a werewolf and there was no known cure. She hadn't been able to kill herself, and who could blame her? The girl's life had been normal just a month before and in only the last couple of days she learned that not only did werewolves exist, she was one. That was a lot to process. Besides, she hadn't wanted to die; she'd just wanted to stop hurting and killing others.

So, she'd asked Sam to do it. She begged him. Killing was always Sam's last result, so he had fought it. He'd wanted to find a way to contain her wolf-self until he could find a way to save her. Dean had offered to do it. Madison was the first woman since Jessica that Sam had felt strongly about. Even Sarah hadn't elicited the same emotion from him and the older brother hadn't wanted Sam to live with the burden of killing her.

In true Sam fashion, he had refused to back away from the responsibility. He had taken the gun from his brother and had hesitated outside of the bedroom door only long enough to ensure that Dean was still there. Of course he was there. Where else would he be? No matter what happened, Dean would always be where Sam needed him to be.

"Sam," he called from the doorway. Even though Dean's voice had been hushed, the sudden noise caused Sam to flinch.

"We can't just leave her here." He said and wiped at the tears on his face.

"It's broad daylight, Sammy. We don't have a choice."

Their fingerprints and other signs of their being in the apartment where everywhere and there wasn't enough time to wipe things down properly. Dean had taken care of as much as he could, but the body would be evidence enough.

"Dean…." Sam gently caressed Madison's face.

Struggling to contain his own tears, Dean walked into the room and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We have to go, Sammy. Someone had to have heard that gunshot; the police are probably on the way."

As if in response, a siren was heard in the distance. Dean's heart quickened.

"Sammy, I'm sorry, but…."

Sam sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I know."

The first siren was joined by a second. "We have to go, Sam."

After one more caress and a whispered apology, Sam arranged Madison's body on the bed and then pushed past his brother in the doorway. Even though Dean didn't think it would be effective, he noticed that Sam had made the scene look as much like a suicide as possible. As much as he hated to leave a weapon behind, it would go a long way to make the setting realistic. Besides, as with everything in their arsenal, the gun couldn't be traced back to them. After his own apology, Dean rushed after his brother.

---

"You didn't have a choice, Sammy."

Dean had driven all day, stopping only long enough for gas and coffee. Late that evening, they were in yet another motel room in some town as far away from Madison as Dean could get them in eighteen hours. Sam had claimed not to be hungry, but Dean knew he had to eat and left him alone long enough to grab food from the diner next door.

"That doesn't help," Sam whispered, staring down at the container of soup his brother insisted he try to eat.

"Yeah." Dean sat down across from him, the BLT he'd gotten for himself losing its appeal. After several moments of silence and no movement from his brother, save for that caused by his breathing, Dean continued. "I'm sorry."

Sam glanced at him. Dean wasn't sure his brother understood what the apology was for; Dean wasn't sure he understood himself.

After swallowing a few spoonfuls of soup, which Dean knew was purely for his benefit, Sam crawled into bed. Covered with more bedding than was necessary in the warm room, Sam turned toward the wall and curled into the smallest form his long body would allow. Just to have something to do, Dean cleaned their food containers from the table and put them into the small refrigerator that sat in a corner of the room.

"Dean?" Sam called quietly, not turning his gaze from the wall.

"Yeah?"

"Don't go out tonight, okay?"

Dean sat down on his own bed and leaned forward to lay a gentle hand on the back of Sam's head. "I'll be right here, Sammy."

They both knew that wasn't just a promise for the next few hours. It was, and had always been, Dean's vow to his brother.


End file.
